Running Errands
by Simply-Cath
Summary: Summary matches the title. Seth runs some errands. Warnings inside.


TITLE: Sweet Tooth  
AUTHOR: Simply Cath  
DISTRIBUTION: Get my permission first.  
RATING: T+  
CONTENT: Violence, bad language.  
SPOILERS: None  
SUMMARY: Title says it all. Seth runs some errands.  
NOTES: This is a result of too much late night TV and an overactive imagination.

Running Errands  
By: Simply_Cath

Seth tilted his head back and to the left, bringing the scissors up. He trimmed carefully, brushing aside the small hairs that now littered the washroom sink. Nodding in satisfaction, he tied his hair back, camouflaging the blond section with the black.

When he stepped out of the room, he walked in on a familiar sight. Roman pulling a pair of jeans over his swim trunks and Dean sprawled out on one of the beds, pawing through his phone with a scowl.

"Dean," Seth shook his head. "Stop googling yourself."

"You know, it's not even the people who say I suck or whatever, they're full of shit." Dean's eyes never left the screen. "Why do people think I'm some kind of psycho?" He sat up a little straighter, pointing the screen at his teammates. "Look at that. 'Dean Ambrose makes me realize why women fall for serial killers.'" He flicked through another screen. "I love that twitchy, violent asshole, he's so-"

Roman laughed. "Only you would get pissed off about people being in love with you."

"Yeah, Dean, relax." Seth nodded. "They only say that stuff because they don't know the real you. You're not an asshole."

The second Seth's words kicked in, Dean reached behind himself, grabbed the biggest pillow he could find and whipped it at Seth. "I guess you're right, Rollins. You're the only asshole in the group."

Seth let the pillow hit him, and smirked. "At least I'm not twitchy."

"Shut up." Dean got up and walked towards his bag. He tossed it on to the bed, the US title thumping to the floor. Dean pawed through his bag and pulled out a small box, giving it a shake. "Son of a bitch," he muttered.

"Out of smokes?" Seth shrugged. "I'm going for a run, I'll grab you some."

"Aren't you worried you'll burst into flames if you touch 'em?" Dean's smile was positively wicked.

"Give me a break, Dean. Last thing I need is to be working with a twitchy, violent asshole whose going through nicotine withdrawl."

"Besides, Seth can still set foot on holy ground." Roman chuckled and grabbed the room card from his wallet. A pristine white towel dangled from his fingers as he headed out the door. "Later."

"Dicks, the both of you," Dean muttered, shaking his head at Seth. "Just for that, you can pay for them."

"I'll see you soon," Seth tossed the pillow back to Dean, affecting a perfectly innocent expression when it just happened to smack Ambrose in the face. "Stop googling yourself, Dean."

Rollins shut the door to the tune of Ambrose's unintelligible muttering. He took the stairs down to the lobby and drew the hood up over his head. The entrance was thankfully devoid of fans.

Seth closed his eyes and took a deep breath, pushing off into a run. He paid only cursory attention to where he was going. With every step away from the hotel, his heartrate quickened. He could feel his pulse thudding in his neck. Gritting his teeth, Seth pushed himself harder.

Soon he found himself on the kinds of streets that only came alive this late. Lost dog posters and concert flyers gave way to the kinds of ads normally found scrawled on bathroom walls. Tourists and sightseers morphed into the worst kinds of locals. Seth could feel eyes on the back of his neck, sizing him up.

He paused for a moment, kicking a can out of his path. Kneeling down under the pretense of tying his shoe, Seth locked eyes with her, alone but expectant. She wore a short red dress and a black mesh jacket. Her glossy black boots caught the light of a street lamp, giving her an almost ethereal glow. With a tilt of her head, she turned and headed into an alley. A small leather purse dangled carelessly between her fingertips, dragging on the ground.

Taking a deep, bracing breath, Seth followed.

Once they were away from the prying eyes and street light, she turned to face him. The corners of her eyes crinkled when she smiled. The last signs of a shiner marred the corner of her right eye.

"Run all this way just for me?"

Seth tilted his head to the side, trying to determine if she was a smoker or just trying to sound sultry. "Maybe I did."

She planted her hands on her hips. "Isn't that sweet? What're you in the mood for?"

"Well, why don't we start slow and see where things take us?" He put his hands in his pockets and leaned against the wall, staring down at his shoes. The sound of her soft chuckle made his hands clench. She placed a hand over his heart and he sucked in a sharp breath. The alley reeked of trash.

"This your first time?" She murmured, leaning in for a kiss. She stopped when he turned away. "I'll take good care of you."

"Funny, I was thinking the same thing." Gritting his teeth, Seth lunged forward, reversing their positions. She looked scared at first and he grinned.

They stood that way for a while, tense and nervous, until she smirked. "You think you''re gonna take care of me?"

"Yeah," Seth's hand squeezed around her throat. He pulled her forward and slammed her back against the wall, nodding in satisfaction when her eyes glazed over. "That's the idea."

Seth's fingers closed tighter. He knocked her flailing hand aside and closed his eyes. Delicate bones threatened to give under his fingers. Her pulse jumped wildly against his thumb. Her face started to redden, until it nearly matched her dress. Her gasps grew softer.

Taking a deep breath, Seth relaxed his grip.

Ever so slowly, she regained her footing. The light came back into her eyes. The understanding.

Seth tightened his hold. He squeezed until he felt the bones give, the skin cool under his fingers. Her eyes slid shut and soon the only thing keeping her up was his hand. He softly counted to thirty and let go. Seth crouched down and slid on his gloves. Grimacing in disdain, he pulled the lonely sixty dollars from her purse and shoved it into his back pocket.

He stepped out of the alley and started walking. As he ran, he took off his gloves, wanting to feel as much of the brisk night air as possible. After a few blocks, he stopped by a convenience store and picked up Dean's cigarettes.

Along the way, he popped into a church and dropped sixty dollars into the donation box.

As he headed rounded the corner near the hotel, he drew up sharply. Four cops were standing at the corner. One of them lifted their head. Seth blinked and slowed to a normal walk, his fingers clenched around the plastic bag. He turned slightly to the side and eased his way between them and a building.

"Excuse me, Sir?" One of the cops spoke up.

Swallowing hard, Seth turned around. "Yeah?"

The cops squinted at him, as if they were trying to read something on his face. Seth scratched his forearm.

The tallest of the cops broke into a grin and smacked his friend on the arm. "I told you it was him. You're that WWE guy, right?"

"Yeah," Seth grinned.

"I knew it! Took my kid out to the show last night, he's still hoarse."

"That's all part of the fun," Rollins nodded. He indulged himself in some small talk until his phone beeped and made his way back to his hotel room.

Seth tossed the bag to Dean, who caught it gracefully.

"Took your sweet assed time, didn't you, Rollins?"

"Hey, don't blame me, I got stopped by the cops."

Dean's blond brows nearly disappeared up into his hairline. "You got stopped by the cops? What, were you jaywalking?"

"No, nothing like that. They..." Seth dropped his voice, doing his best Roman impression. "Buh-lieve in the Shield."

"Right, should have known. Few of the guys are going out tonight, I guess Slater found some kinda club that's got everyone hopping. Rome's heading down with his cousins, you wanna go?"

"Gimme ten to get changed?"

"You're such a chick sometimes." Dean headed on to the balcony, smokes and lighter in hand.

Seth watched him go. He went into his bag and changed into a pair of black jeans and dark green t-shirt to go with it. Seth looked over his shoulder and saw a least an inch of cigarette dangling from Dean's lips as he flicked through his phone.

Rollins tossed his running clothes back into his bag and grabbed a small brown bottle from the front pocket. He walked into the washroom and locked the door. Seth unscrewed the lid and grinned as the scent of bleach wafted up to his nose. He set the bottle down and leaned on the counter, peering intently into the mirror. Brushing his fingers through his hair, Seth grasped a single black strand. Pinching it between two fingers of his left hand, Rollins picked up the small brush inside the bottle and soaked the bristles in bleach. He counted to thirty before pulling it free from the liquid.

With sure, quick strokes, Seth drew the brush across the strand from root to tip, making sure to get every milimeter covered. When he was done, Seth secured the brush and cap again. He grinned. She looked right at home.

Once he washed up, Seth joined Dean on the balcony.

"Rollins," Dean murmured, staring out at the skyline. He took one last drag and closed his eyes before exhaling. "You think this'll ever get old? This life, I mean."

"Dean," Seth clapped a hand on his shoulder. "I don't think I will ever get tired of this."

THE END


End file.
